The Last
by dark-9
Summary: "I know it's the last day on Aiur, we'll be together while our planet dies... I know it's the last day on Aiur, we'll never say goodbye..."


THE LAST  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own StarCraft! And forgive me my mistakes, please, English isn't my native language... if you can read Russian go to my profile and read this story in Russian (believe me, the Russian version is much better ^_^)  
  
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The shining of his armour played with derisive, yet not knowing about the future decline, the sun. Her "smile" was intertwined in a ringing voltage. He turned and answered to her. The warming volley has joined sheats of rays. She closed her eyes meditative hanging in several centimeters from a surface of the ground.  
Saeya feels good. Because Danimar is here.  
" We shall die ", - she said quietly, feeling dredging and jaggies of the "directed" telepathic speech. There was the mix of surprise and fatalism.  
" Yes, Saeya", - swallowed by a pile of red quantums, he reacted.  
"He's so handsome", - she thought with a sad admiration, squeezing her fingers, covered with khaidarian rings, into fists. - "The True Protoss Warrior".  
(We're dying anyway)  
The melancholy, relentless like a decline of a sun, has approached. The drops of blood-looked sunset fell on them, on some photon cannons, which were stiffening in crackling of shields, on lonely Pylon and deserted Templar Archives.   
Saeya was "listening" to consciousness of those who now were fighting for every micron of a territory. The main battles were in other part of Aiur now, but it seems to get closer. The planet was extremely huge, but too small to protect inself from the Space Plague.  
Saeya has shuddered. The crimson alive hell was clicking his jaws. The poisonous saliva of hydralisks, the feleers, claws and suffocating creep was penetrated in Aiur, exhausting away all the life.  
"Danimar, the Zerg will be here soon", - she whispered.  
"I... I know", - less sensitive, than Templar-Saeya, Danimar insatiable tried to cling to the information. And the unreflecting efflorescence of pain has spread in both of them.  
"It's our last evening, Danimar", - she said. The residual zigzag of an ultraviolet was refracted in the Pylon and plasma-shield of Zealot.  
"Yes, Saeya", - he nodded.   
"Danimar... You're not losing your Faith, are you?"  
Her pretwilight was as a back side of a hallucinations. Illusions are her plaything and her silver chains... but she has never doubted before. He hasn't too.  
"My Faith?.. I am a Zealot, you know... But our world is dying and we lost everything. Are we the greatest race in the Galaxy? So, why are we such..."  
"...Lost?" - she has virtually pressed his telepathic talk. It slid off like an awkward bruise. She blinked. - "No, Danimar, never say so. It's just our edge of Khala isn't it?"  
"Probably. I am not afraid of death... of MY death. But I don't want Aiur...", - Danimar faltered, spreading a shelly path of words. - "Aiur and YOU to die! I don't want it!"  
Saeya turned her face away, feeling the same. To give her life for him, and both - for Aiur.   
"The sunset is light today, it shouldn't be raining", - she smiled again, the tiny grains of her alogical pleasure have dissipated in a dense atmosphere. The twilight and a cool air began to breathe, declaring their rights.   
At the night all the colours fade to gray and the cold holds down  
Sayea shivered.  
"I'm frozen, Danimar", - she complained.  
He burst out laughing. It was like the sparkle of seeds of her smile has arrived. Or... Saeya was an embodiment of gravity and a riddle, she was a bit strange and even gloomy sometimes, as all the High Templars. "The strange caste", - he thought.   
But she was HIS Saeya.  
Danimar embraced her. The warm armour-symbiont adjoined to her shoulders. Her ritual dress, too bulky for a fragile body, was a little handicap. But they are Protoss and feel each other...  
(for you only for you, I feel for you...)   
...By their minds and their will. Till the end.  
"It's our night, Danimar".  
"Yes, Saeya".  
Just don't say "goodbye". Never.   
Our night... The Last...  
Just no "goodbye".  
The sweethearts of the doomed world. A discord of injustice.  
...The Zerg came during the shivering pre-dawn hour of dew. They have broken off the painful pleasure of two.  
The photon cannons, the silent guardians of small base started talking first. Danimar summoned his psi-blades, rushing in the swarm of ugly creatures. The thick carapace of zerglings was crushed by him like a paper. About ten torn corpses already rolled to feet of the Zealot, but new infinity of Zerg arrived. Saeya threw a psionic storm into the enemies, having formed a gaping bald spot in moving crust. The new volley of lightnings has destroyed the pack of mutalisks  
After two hours of continuous fight the shield of Danimar was gone, he hardly kept on fighting. The blinding field of a storm blossomed occasionally, bringing the lie of hope.   
(psionic storm fades so fast...)  
And then Saeya's power was depleted.   
Now two Protoss was standing, having nestled a back to each other, among ruins of cannons and Pylon, hopelessly beating off from the horde of Zerg.  
(to protect the Archives...)  
(to protect Aiur... we must...)  
Dark and cold, like the sky of midnight, blood flew down on the crippled bodies. Both Zealot and Templar were fatally wounded.   
But they kept on fighting.  
"We are together, right?"  
"Yes"  
(what then?)  
The despair wrenched like a whirling wind of desert, adding silent sobbings into Templar's shining eyes.  
(Why has it all happened?.. Aiur, home of mine, home of my ancestors and my love, why are you destroyed?.. My heart is torn away, oh Aiur... Nothing left to live for, nothing left to fight for...)  
The needle of hydralisk stuck into her neck, sparks of almost black venous liquid were thrown back on Danimar, who was killing another zergling.   
"Saeya...?"  
"Danimar... Forgive me..."  
"Saeya?!"  
He has had time to look back and see the broken body, which was turning into dissolving blue flash.  
"I love you, Danimar!"  
(i love... Saeya...)  
"For Aiur!" - he cried.  
(The dawn won't restore nor him, nor her...)  
"For Saeya!"  
The six hydras shot in Zealot simultaneously, because Danimar thrust his psi-blades in Saeya's murderers' flesh.   
And then one more azure, irreal and painful flash have bloomed.  
....A lazy dawn , grey and callously spat out the gloomy illumination. Ashes whispered with Aiur's sun. Ashes and a stench have hidden a face of once the most beautiful world of the Galaxy...  
And nevertheless...  
The "Goodbye" hadn't been spoken.  
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R&R please!!! 


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